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Adam started and looked round towards the door。 Vixen had
begun to whimper； and there was a sound of a stick and a lame
walk on the stairs。 It was Bartle Massey come back。 Could it be all
over？
Bartle entered quietly； and； going up to Adam； grasped his
hand and said； “I’m just come to look at you； my boy； for the folks
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are gone out of court for a bit。”
Adam’s heart beat so violently he was unable to speak—he
could only return the pressure of his friend’s hand—and Bartle；
drawing up the other chair； came and sat in front of him； taking off
his hat and his spectacles。
“That’s a thing never happened to me before；” he observed； “to
go out o’ the door with my spectacles on。 I clean forgot to take ’em
off。”
The old man made this trivial remark； thinking it better not to
respond at all to Adam’s agitation： he would gather； in an indirect
way； that there was nothing decisive to communicate at present。
“And now；” he said； rising again； “I must see to your having a
bit of the loaf； and some of that wine Mr。 Irwine sent this morning。
He’ll be angry with me if you don’t have it。 Come； now；” he went
on； bringing forward the bottle and the loaf and pouring some
wine into a cup； “I must have a bit and a sup myself。 Drink a drop
with me； my lad—drink with me。”
Adam pushed the cup gently away and said； entreatingly； “Tell
me about it； Mr。 Massey—tell me all about it。 Was she there？ Have
they begun？”
“Yes； my boy； yes—it’s taken all the time since I first went； but
they’re slow； they’re slow； and there’s the counsel they’ve got for
her puts a spoke in the wheel whenever he can； and makes a deal
to do with cross…examining the witnesses and quarrelling with the
other lawyers。 That’s all he can do for the money they give him；
and it’s a big sum—it’s a big sum。 But he’s a ’cute fellow； with an
eye that ’ud pick the needles out of the hay in no time。 If a man
had got no feelings； it ’ud be as good as a demonstration to listen
to what goes on in court； but a tender heart makes one stupid。 I’d
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have given up figures for ever only to have had some good news to
bring to you； my poor lad。”
“But does it seem to be going against her？” said Adam。 “Tell
me what they’ve said。 I must know it now—I must know what they
have to bring against her。”
“Why； the chief evidence yet has been the doctors； all but
Martin Poyser—poor Martin。 Everybody in court felt for him—it
was like one sob； the sound they made when he came down again。
The worst was when they told him to look at the prisoner at the
bar。 It was hard work； poor fellow—it was hard work。 Adam； my
boy； the blow falls heavily on him as well as you； you must help
poor Martin； you must show courage。 Drink some wine now； and
show me you mean to bear it like a man。”
Bartle had made the right sort of appeal。 Adam； with an air of
quiet obedience； took up the cup and drank a little。
“Tell me how she looked；” he said presently。
“Frightened； very frightened； when they first brought her in； it
was the first sight of the crowd and the judge； poor creatur。 And
there’s a lot o’ foolish women in fine clothes； with gewgaws all up
their arms and feathers on their heads； sitting near the judge：
they’ve dressed themselves out in that way； one ’ud think； to be
scarecrows and warnings against any man ever meddling with a
woman again。 They put up their glasses； and stared and
whispered。 But after that she stood like a white image； staring
down at her hands and seeming neither to hear nor see anything。
And she’s as white as a sheet。 She didn’t speak when they asked
her if she’d plead ‘guilty’ or ‘not guilty；’ and they pleaded ‘not
guilty’ for her。 But when she heard her uncle’s name； there
seemed to go a shiver right through her； and when they told him
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to look at her； she hung her head down； and cowered； and hid her
face in her hands。 He’d much ado to speak poor man； his voice
trembled so。 And the counsellors—who look as hard as nails
mostly—I saw； spared him as much as they could。 Mr。 Irwine put
himself near him and went with him out o’ court。 Ah； it’s a great
thing in a man’s life to be able to stand by a neighbour and uphold
him in such trouble as that。”
“God bless him； and you too； Mr。 Massey；” said Adam； in a low
voice； laying his hand on Bartle’s arm。
“Aye； aye； he’s good metal； he gives the right ring when you try
him； our parson does。 A man o’ sense—says no more than’s
needful。 He’s not one of those that think they can comfort you with
chattering； as if folks who stand by and look on knew a deal better
what the trouble was than those who have to bear it。 I’ve had to do
with such folks in my time—in the south； when I was in trouble
myself。 Mr。 Irwine is to be a witness himself； by…and…by； on her
side； you know； to speak to her character and bringing up。”
“But the other evidence 。 。 。 does it go hard against her！” said
Adam。 “What do you think； Mr。 Massey？ Tell me the truth。”
“Yes； my lad； yes。 The truth is the best thing to tell。 It must
come at last。 The doctors’ evidence is heavy on her—is heavy。 But
she’s gone on denying she’s had a child from first to last。 These
poor silly women…things—they’ve not the sense to know it’s no use
denying what’s proved。 It’ll make against her with the jury； I
doubt； her being so obstinate： they may be less for recommending
her to mercy； if the verdict’s against her。 But Mr。 Irwine ’ull leave
no stone unturned with the judge—you may rely upon that；
Adam。”
“Is there nobody to stand by her and seem to care for her in the
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court？” said Adam。
“There’s the chaplain o’ the jail sits near her； but he’s a sharp
ferrety…faced man—another sort o’ flesh and blood to Mr。 Irwine。
They say the jail chaplains are mostly the fag…end o’ the clergy。”
“There’s one man as ought to be there；” said Adam bitterly。
Presently he drew himself up and looked fixedly out of the
window； apparently turning over some new idea in his mind。
“Mr。 Massey；” he said at last； pushing the hair off his forehead；
“I’ll go back with you。 I’ll go into court。 It’s cowardly of me to keep
away。 I’ll stand by her—I’ll own her—for all she’s been deceitful。
They oughtn’t to cast her off—her own flesh and blood。 We hand
folks over to God’s mercy； and show none ourselves。 I used to be
hard sometimes： I’ll never be hard again。 I’ll go； Mr。 Massey—I’ll
go with you。”
There was a decision in Adam’s manner which would have
prevented Bartle from opposing him； even if he had wished to do
so。 He only said； “Take a bit； then； and another sup； Adam； for the
love of me。 See； I must stop and eat a morsel。 Now； you take
some。”
Nerved by an active resolution； Adam took a morsel of bread
and drank some wine。 He was haggard and unshaven； as he had
been yesterday； but he stood upright again； and looked more like
the Adam Bede of former days。
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Chapter XLIII
The Verdict
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